My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Chapter 29 NAUSEATINGLY LOVELY

KIERAN’S POV

I stared at the read receipt, wondering why the hell I had sent the message in the first place.

I knew there would be no typing bubbles, no reply.

Why would there be? Did I really expect a birthday greeting and those three meaningless words—Hope you’re well—to fix it all?

After what I said to her, after what I did, how could that ever be enough?

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face—not the hardened Sera who’d pushed me away these past months, not the defiant woman who’d looked at me with ice in her gaze.

No, that day, she looked...wrecked. Shattered in a way I had never seen before—not even when I asked for a divorce or when we had to send Daniel away.

And it had been my doing.

Celeste’s reddened cheek. Her tear-streaked story. They’d ignited a rage so blinding I hadn’t stopped to question. Hadn’t considered that there might be another side.

I’d stormed into Sera’s home and—god—I’d unleashed. Every cruel word was a weapon wielded for Celeste’s sake.

I deserved that second slap. Deserved far worse.

But nothing had prepared me for the pain in Sera’s eyes. It truly cut. The way each word had trembled as she fought to keep herself together. The way she’d said she’d rather have been with any strangers that night instead of me.

The door slamming in my face had been the wake-up call I needed. In that moment, I’d understood exactly how far I’d fallen. But when I raised my hand to knock again—to beg forgiveness—the sound of her sobs through the wood stole all my courage.

Those broken, gasping cries hurt more than any physical blow ever could.

’Coward,’ my wolf Ashar sneered at me.

The days bled together, each one heavier with regret. Today—her birthday—had been my flimsy excuse to reach out.

I stared at my screen, and even though I knew it was no use, I waited.

Even a ‘Go to hell’ would have sufficed. It would have given me something—an opening. The chance to say the one thing I hadn’t had the decency to say that day: I’m sorry.

But the screen stayed dark. Nothing came.

Fine then.

I didn’t deserve an easy way out anyway. I’d berated her physically; it was only right that I apologize physically.

The thought of seeing Sera again made me restless as I got into the car. I didn’t even know what I planned to say—if anything at all could reverse those awful, ugly things I’d said.

I tried to practice on the drive over, but by the time her house came into view, my mind was still a blank slate.

I was about to pull into her driveway when my foot slammed the brake.

A familiar Aston Martin was pulling in ahead of me. I watched, tense, as the engine shut off and Lucian fucking Reed stepped out of the driver’s side.

I gritted my teeth, irrational anger tightening my muscles. The guy was everywhere, like a fly buzzing around Sera.

He walked over to the passenger’s side and opened the door with a flourish, bowing slightly.

My breath hitched as Sera exited the car, and her musical laughter floated in the night air, a startling contrast to those gut-wrenching sobs I couldn’t get out of my head.

I heard my wolf, Ashar, murmur, ‘What do you know? Lucian makes her laugh; you make a cry.’

I rolled up my window to mute the sound.

Sera’s arms were full of flowers, little gifts, and pastries wrapped in bright cellophane. Her cheeks were flushed, and I desperately wanted to blame it on the cold, but it was a warm evening.

And that smile she fixed on Lucian—genuine, unguarded, radiant—hit me like a punch to the chest.

I hadn’t seen her smile like that in...fuck, ever.

I watched as Lucian stretched his arm out, relieving some of the load in her arms.

No wonder she looked so happy. She’d celebrated her birthday; he’d probably done that for her. Something I never once did in the ten years we were together.

They walked side by side to her door, smiling at each other. They formed a nauseatingly lovely picture, and I felt something ugly twist in my gut—jealousy, bitterness, that ever-present regret.

‘This is good, isn’t it?’ I heard Ashar whisper. ‘It’s what you want, right?’

Ashar was all the best parts of me—powerful, honorable, noble. I doubt he approved of my extremely errant human nature.

And as usual, he was right. This was good. It was for the best.

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